Free The Last of the Demon Slayers by Angie Fox Page B

didn’t care either way, but Pirate had been a glittery mess and I was still finding sparkly bits in my bedroll.
    In short, it was pretty safe to assume Flappy had been the runt of the litter, abandoned by a sleeker, sparkly clan. We had no clue which because as far as anyone knew, there were no white dragons.
    I’d rescued Flappy from the side of a cliff while he was still in the egg. At the time, I hadn’t planned on adopting a dragon. Of course plans change. I should know that by now.
    The dragon let out a juvenile skreeek as the Red Skulls began cranking up their bikes.
    “Oh yeah,” Pirate hollered, “you like to ride, now don’t you Flappy?”
    Teeth-rattling engines roared on all sides as I made sure Pirate was strapped in safe and made a final check on my helmet.
    My bike wobbled slightly as we revved out of the battered driveway and toward a series of side roads that would take us to Nether Wallup Way.
           Sid and Ant Eater led the group, followed by Dimitri, Pirate and me. Grandma took up the rear position, with Flappy above her. I snuck a glance past the line of bikers behind us to the hulking mess of Big Nose Kate’s.
    It still didn’t look like much from the outside. The witches warded it extra tight this time, careful not to leave any live spells behind. As the morning mists rose off the woods, I could feel the comforting whispers of the magic we’d left in our wake.
    Every single witch had chosen to come with us. It was a humbling show of support – one that I would never take for granted. I just hoped that sooner rather than later, the Red Skulls could return. They deserved a place to call home.
           Right now, it was probably better we were leaving. I doubted they wanted their home overrun by banshees. Just the thought of tangling with them again made my stomach clench. The fairy paths would protect us only for so long.
           We cruised up Service Road D until Sid called us to a halt on a dirt shoulder littered with rusty soda cans and holes. A wooden fence twined with barbed wire ran the length of the road, separating us from an empty farm field. The shorn stalks of last year’s crop huddled close to the ground as far as the eye could see.
    My front tire caught on an extra deep rut and I started skidding sideways. I caught myself – barely.
    Meanwhile Frieda had run her sidecar into a prickly bush. “Sorry, Bob!” She winced at her passenger.
    Bob put a leather clad shoulder to the worst of the brambles. “What’s the idea, Sid?”
    “A thousand apologies, mister prickly pants.” Sid lumbered off his bike. “Next time, I’ll make sure the fairies in these parts landscape the highway entrances. What else do they have to do? Maybe they’ll plant some petunias or lay out pillows for you guys.” He rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath.
    Sid planted both hands on a section of the fence. He spread his fingers, making sure he had a solid grip.
    “Nether Wallup Way,” he said, laying on the Jersey twang, “land of fairies. Path of fae.” He scowled with his entire round body, daring me to so much as crack a smile. “Release the latch upon this door. That we may wend forth evermore.”
    The fence cracked open to form a door. Green grass spilled out, inching out over barren rocks and dirt.
    “What?” Sid waved his arm. “Are you just going to stand there?”
    Ant Eater and I slid off our bikes and helped him pull the heavy gate back. Sunshine flooded out, warming my hands and face.
    Where there had been dead grass, a rich black road wound its way through a canopy of trees. Tiny purple flowers cropped up in the grass on either side of the path and around the low stone wall mounded on either side. The flat rocks – stacked as if laid by hand - formed intricate patterns. Ivy climbed the trunks and moss dripped from immense green conifers.
           The air smelled sweet, although not in a nature-type way but in a bakery way.
    Amazing.
    I’d